


Thief With a Pill

by sselizabeth



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Gavin Does Not Leave The Bar, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 05:12:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6891586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sselizabeth/pseuds/sselizabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a night at the bar ends in Gavin being drugged, Michael, with some help, must do what he can to make Gavin feel safe again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thief With a Pill

**Author's Note:**

> This story includes light references to rape, but Gavin is never touched by his attacker.  
> This story also includes a graphic look into the mind of a victim of date rape drugs. If any of this makes you uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ.

Gavin was pretty tired of smelling booze on other’s people’s breaths. He was also tired of said clammy hands  _accidentally_ ghosting by his arm. It took the second touch for Michael’s arm to find its way around his waist, fingers clamping down as if they could keep the world from touching him.

But it was Geoff’s birthday and he insisted that the first part of his party just _had_ to happen at a public bar, not his house that he frequently held get-togethers at. Gavin chalked it up to not having so many drunk people around Millie and there was no way he was going to disagree with that logic.

He just couldn’t deny it was frustrating to have half the office and other random people shoved into a medium-sized bar. He truly felt for the innocent civilians who didn’t understand the strange crowd that had piled in half an hour ago.

Not to mention, him and Michael didn’t have a spotless record when it came to pubs. Too many broken noses and restless nights. Not to mention that one lawyer who decided that Gavin _asked for it._

 _Yeah_ , Michael always thought, _fuck public bars_.

Gavin and Michael had escaped to the front of the bar after a particularly drunk Jeremy knocked over an entire bottle of whatever the hell onto the floor. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, watching the bartender create drinks.

“Do you think that Geoff is still going to pay for everyone after this turn up?” Gavin asked.

“He said he would. But I don’t think he knew they were going to get _this_ wasted. Man put in his word already though. He’s fucked.”

Gavin chuckled, running the tips of his fingers along the rim of his cup. The back of Michael’s head soothed, melting at his boy’s delicate fingers. He hummed lovingly, reminding Gavin of his appreciation for everything that was _Gavin_.

His words were slurred as he fell into the velvet abyss that was Gavin, “I don’t know, I just wanna get to his house and play some games so you and I can go home and sleep.”

The British boy’s hair shyly hung over his eye as he nodded, gravitating towards the bartender as he began mixing a drink, “You’re ready to turn in, too?”

“I’m tired tonight, bud. That Versus was killer. God, we’re getting so old”

“You took it like a champ, though,” Gavin sweetly responded, his smile brighter than the neon sign behind the bar. Michael could stare at one of them for the rest of his life.

Michael rested his forehead on the other’s temple, breathing in the smell of fresh laundry, “Hey, I gotta impress my boy, I-”

“Hey, Michael!”

They both turned to the obnoxiously loud and drunk Burnie, who was leaning on Geoff’s shoulder. Michael cut his eyes toward Gavin, shrugging.

“Come here, for a- fuck you, Kerry. Come here for a second!” Burnie finished, crooking his finger, beckoning him over. Michael’s ribs laced with discomfort, just not in the mood for drunkards. But as Gavin’s fingers drifted along his neck, his chest puffed with a sigh and he nodded.

“These idiots are gonna kill me,” Michael pouted, nosing the other’s ear. “Be right back.”

Gavin patted him on the back, zoning in on the flurry of muscle movement beneath his fingers. He always caught himself marveling at his boyfriend’s anatomy. The fact that he was so _perfect_ and so _there_ still astounded him.

His thoughts were derailed as the man who had before been sitting beside Michael, scooted a seat over.

Gavin made it a point to keep his eyes on his phone, not indulging in whatever this man had in plan. He had very obviously shared intimate moments with another while at the bar, there were no misunderstandings. So he checked his email and ignored the chills running down his back and the fact that his fingers were starting to lose circulation.

“Excuse me,” said the man. “Do you have a second?”

Gavin mustered all the spiritual power that his body held not to roll his eyes and just reminded himself of the way that Michael’s hands felt on his hips at three in the morning and how they took his breath away and then everything was _clear_.

The smile was all too fake, and he half hoped the man would notice. That way, he might decide that conversing just wasn’t worth it.

“Yup, do you need something?” Gavin asked. The fake cheer in his voice deserved a back scratch from his boyfriend later. Not like he wouldn’t already get it.

“I’m just in town for a business meeting, and I was wondering if you could help me with some directions to my hotel. I’ve got the address here. If you can help, that’d be great,” the man hurriedly explained, his cheeks flushed and his eyes somewhere else. _He_ was somewhere else.

Gavin would be lying if he said he wasn’t pleasantly surprised. It was all too often for pushy, drunk men and women to try to get into his pants. There was a reason that him and Michael tried to avoid bars nowadays. It was a fairly rare moment for someone to have non-flirtatious intentions when speaking to either of them.

His chest literally deflated and his shoulders eased, the stress of an upcoming rejection leaving his body in one swift breath. His ribs solemnly praised him.

“Oh, um, su-” He started, but stopped abruptly as the man dropped the piece of paper between the two. He cursed under his breath, his eyes rapidly switching from between Gavin and the floor.

“I’m sorry, I have got the worst butter fingers, I-”

“No worries, mate. I’ve got it.” Gavin smiled, leaning between the two seats to pick up the flimsy paper. He caught a glance of the hotel name, internally sighing at the unknown name. As he sat up and handed the paper back to the unknown man, he recognized the man’s fiddling thumbs.

The man in front of him had a sheen on his face. A coat of sweat. His greasy hair screamed _dirty_ and Gavin couldn’t help but wonder what business man looked so unruly and went to a bar on said trip. But none of that was his business.

“I don’t really know where that hotel is. I’m really sorry. I bet the bartender would know, though-”

“No it’s okay, it’s not that important. I just figured I would try. Thanks anyways.”

Gavin’s instincts bristled at the new knowledge that the man didn’t seem keen to _really_ find out where the hotel was. At that moment, he decided he didn’t want anything to do with the “businessman” anymore.

So he turned back to his phone and subtly placed his hand on his cheek, closing off any further conversation. Taking a sip from his drink, he felt air waft over his body as the man got up and presumably left.

Completely and utterly over the night already, Gavin was just ready to have Michael back and go home. He didn’t want to deal with weird, drunk men. Or worry if Jeremy was going to break something. He just wanted to make popcorn and put too much butter in it and listen to Michael complain about the unhealthy decisions that he made in life. It sounded like bliss.

He took another swig from his drink and considered joining Michael. It beat sitting at the bar on his own.

It was then that a blast of lightheadedness took his head by storm. His eyebrows hiked in thought, immediate worry for dehydration or a cold coming up. His first thought was to turn towards the group of his friends, but the moment that he tried to turn his body, his head cranked up the temperature.

Fire ants were crawling on his brain and they were biting; biting so quickly and so harshly and _oh God it hurt._ He laid his head down, hoping the counter would cool down his forehead. A wave of nausea ruined all hope. He felt like removing all of his insides, all of them turning against him.

Everything sounded as if he was underwater. It only made sense that there was Kelp wrapping around his body, _suffocating_ him. He scratched at his elbows, hoping to find something restricting him but there was _nothing_ and it was driving him _mad._

There had to be something on his skin or _in his skin_. It was starting to itch so awfully and he must have looked like he was on a substance, rubbing up and down his arms. The tears pricking at his eyes were the least of his problems.

It was all happening so rapidly that he hardly noticed that he was struggling to keep his eyes open. His body was shutting down without his knowledge, without his consent. He fought against his eyelids, begging his mind to be _his_ again.

His brain started screaming images of the businessman. How he leant over. How his drink was vulnerable.

How _he_ was vulnerable.

_Michael._

The fear began budding throughout his body. Flowers of panic and dread grew through his ribs and wrapped around his heart. It felt like it was going to explode. He didn’t know what to do, and worst, where that man had gone.

He couldn’t lift his head for help. His body was so wholly against his will. The absolute terror that filled his body was numbing, and he was willing himself to use the last of his muscle strength to push himself out of his seat; to gain attention, to make a scene.

Anything to keep from becoming a statistic.

Then he felt the most gentle of hands on his shoulders, fingers that massaged into the liquid that was his current body.

“Gavin. Gavin, baby, can you hear me?” Michael was speaking hurriedly and the bartender just dropped something and someone had Michael’s name on their lips and _Goddammit_ he couldn’t move his. Let alone have coherent thoughts.

“Mi…”

“Alright, that’s good. You’re here. We’re gonna get you out of here, okay? Get you home.”

He tried to focus on Michael’s arms that surrounded him, and the other arm that helped support him. But he could only feel the layer of revulsion that had settled over his mind. Nothing felt like his. It was _slimy_ and it was _sinister_.

Only after the whisper in his ear did Gavin recognize that it was Ryan who was helping. His feet scuttled against the concrete and he cringed, knowing full well that with every second his feet were getting heavier and heavier. Though not as heavy as his hips or his eyelids or Michael’s voice or Ryan’s breathing.

It was only when he was in the car, his head on someone’s lap and his feet in someone else’s. Only when familiar hands began claiming his hair and eyelashes did he know that his head finally belonged to Michael.

He didn’t have the strength but he so desperately wanted to curl his entire body into the safety that was his companion. So he conveyed it the best he could. His lips could barely move and there was no way his eyes were opening.

“Michael, need all of you,” he whispered, desperately hoping he didn’t sound too pathetic.

And as Michael immediately began gathering him up into his lap, he knew that his love would never die for such a perfect boy. All of his limbs failed him, but Michael didn’t. Within seconds he was bundled up in the warmth that was his boyfriend. He didn’t feel safe until that very moment. It didn’t matter who was driving, or who was on the other side of the seat.

Only engulfed by Michael did he feel secure.

Michael kissed Gavin on the head so incredibly gently, scarcely rocking the human in his arms. He was all _too_ aware that the situation was not pretty, much supported by the small amount of drool that Gavin couldn’t control. He took care of that with his jacket though, having removed it and laid it by the British boy’s chin.

He used a steady rhythm of rocking to wash away how severe the situation could’ve become. To drown the ever loving _helplessness_ that had grasped his lungs the moment he laid eyes on the sagging body.

“Gav, how are you feeling?”

Ryan’s eyes met his, daring him to be ready for the answer.

“Mich- Michael, I feel so… tired. My he- head hurts, too.”

Everything slurred together and almost every word was broken up, but Gavin could form an answer and his pinched nerves settled for the moment. It was all he could ask for.

“I know, buddy. But I’ve got you now, okay? We’re gonna go home and we’re gonna get in bed and you’ll wake up feeling all better. I promise.”

His voice wavered as he came to terms with his boyfriend being drugged.

He couldn’t come to terms with it without his body stinging in every which way, his instincts screaming to _protect_ and to _search_. Search for whoever would harm something so precious.

Gavin desperately tried to lift his head and nuzzle it into Michael’s neck, but his body deteriorated and he mewled a pathetic sound. A sound that lodged itself into the heads of anyone present in the car. Michael squeezed his eyes, willing any upcoming tears away. He lifted Gavin’s head, cradling it under his chin.

“Don’t force anything, okay? Just talk to me if you need anything,” Michael whispered, telling his voice to go _fuck itself_ and stop sounding so fragile.

With so many things running through his head, Michael was able to come to terms with the true, ugly aspects of something like this. Gavin clearly couldn’t control his limbs or saliva, so he knew damn well that Gavin also had no control over his bladder. He hoped to anyone listening, for Gavin’s sake, that the world didn’t decide to fuck him over that much.

Because the night was already fucked up enough. His beautiful _being_ had been tampered by someone who was undoubtedly a disgrace to humanity. That was something that Michael couldn’t forgive.

“I don’t know… I don’t know, anything, Michael. I’m so tired. But my tummy hurts so… so bad,” Gavin whispered. His wrist was starting to slide off of his body, but Michael swiftly caught it, his chest clenching around every organ that ever fucking existed in his lifetime.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. We’re almost home,” Michael reassured, pressing a strong and certain kiss between Gavin’s eyes. Urging him to feel safe. _God_ all he wanted was for him to feel _okay._

He reached between Gavin’s knees, bunched up against his chest, and began putting pressure on his stomach. He didn’t want to knead or bother his stomach, but he just wanted to do something to help him.

Jesus, he felt so useless.

“Thank you, Michael,” Gavin shivered.

He knew that Rooster Teeth wasn’t just gaming. It was a company. A corporation that dealt with money and business affairs, at the least. He was well aware when someone was flirting to get connections, or when a note promising death was left on their door. But he never knew it’d come to this.

This was the kind of _mess_ that happened in the movies. Not to idiots playing games.

Once stopped outside of their apartment. Michael refused Ryan’s help, instead picking Gavin up by his knees and shoulders, holding him so close and so gentle, yet so firm. Geoff, driving unknowingly to Gavin, made Michael promise to text him in the morning.

He was heading to the authorities. Michael felt awful just _knowing_ the hell that Geoff would raise once he got to the police department.

By the time that Michael had gotten the two of them into the apartment, Gavin had mostly fallen asleep. He was only vaguely aware of movements, and every other word that Michael said.

He didn’t waste any time in getting Gavin to the bedroom. He lowered him onto the bed with the carefulness of a newborn baby. The moment Gavin was on the bed, he was leaning towards his side, struggling to turn over.

“Baby, I told you to let me know…” Michael sighed, coating his voice in kindness. He reached down and turned Gavin over, his lungs deflating as Gavin let out a groan. His limbs were so flimsy and his eyes were so dull and he still couldn’t keep his mouth closed and-

“Oh God, Gavin,” Michael whispered, his voice finally breaking. He grabbed one of the folded shirts he had on his dresser and laid it neatly under his love’s mouth. His lips trembled and he stood still, attempting to get a hold of himself.

“Michael? Michael, what are you doing?” And the way that his voice was so bare and so gentle and so _open_ to the world and Michael wanted to _punch_ himself. Here he was standing like a rock, being a selfish asshole just because he didn’t want to cry.

His boyfriend was fucking _drugged._

“I’m sorry, Gav. I’m so sorry. I’m right here; was just taking a second,” he smiled, sitting next to Gavin as gentle as possible. With the way that he treated his head, Michael could put one and one together. His head must have been splitting.

He thought of all the headaches Gavin ever gave him and he wanted to crumble the world in his hands and toss it into the sun. Fuck it, he could take Gavin to Mars and let him stargaze his freckles. He’d bring a pen so they could make constellations and ask the universe to be nice to them.

Gavin’s arm shifted. He was regaining his mobility.

“Do you need anything? The bathroom, something to drink, the lights?” Michael questioned.

The corner of Gavin’s lips quirked, attempting a smile, “No, my little knight in shining armor. I just want to feel better, and you could do that by lying down with me. Maybe the lights, actually.”

“Of course, of course- anything,” Michael spouted, jumping up to turn the lights off. The absence of light wrapped itself around the two.

They could be forgotten here. They could disappear into the nothingness that surrounded them and tell the day to go fuck itself and tell the night to stick around.

The stars would tell on them, though.

“Do you… do you wanna undress, bud?”

The moonlight coming through the curtains gave the room a wonderful, gentle light. He focused on the soft glow of Gavin’s face, trying to ignore the slack features that screamed _drugs_.

“Please. Just, um… I don’t know. I just. I’m really uncomfortable. I can’t stop but think about what could’ve- I. Michael, just don’t worry about it, okay?”

His words came out without a filter, his brain’s archive unable to decipher from one word or the other. Instead, it all came out at once and so did Michael’s breath.

“Gavin, please. You’re going to overheat and- it’s just me, remember? You know me.”

“I know. Yeah, I’m sorry-”

Michael shushed him immediately, squeezing his eyes because Goddammit, it might suck to see the love of his life like this, but Gavin was the one who could’ve faced something so much worst.

“You don’t need to apologize, Gavin. I’ve been so focused on _right now_ that I forgot why people get drugged. _I’m_ sorry. Come on, now. Let’s get you undressed and under the sheets.”

And if Gavin flinched when Michael unzipped his jeans, no one even dared to take it personally. Michael just took the extra second to pause.

“I love you, okay? You’re okay.”

“I know,” Gavin whispered, his eyebrows scrunching. He was regaining control in his facial muscles and Michael wished they weren’t being used in shame.

It was the first time that night that Gavin had shone any real emotion about the event. He wasn’t acting natural, but he wasn’t crying or talking about how violated he felt.

It left Michael wondering what was going on in his head.

Once Gavin was only in his boxers, Michael proceeded to do the same. He couldn’t decide if he was happy with himself or just downright heartbroken when he stopped and stepped out of view before undressing. He just wanted to take Gavin and hide him from what caused all of this uncomfort and fear.

And so he did.

He pulled the sheets and comforter over Gavin, before crawling in behind him.

“This okay?” Michael asked, blanketing himself over Gavin. His fingers found their home; resting in between the bare bones of Gavin Free.

“Of course,” Gavin’s sighed.

And Michael sucked in a breath when he felt how much of a struggle Gavin’s arms felt as they attempted to reach for Michael’s hand. He connected their hands together.

“My stubborn boy. I told you to let me know if you wanted to move.”

“I-” Gavin started but froze, his voice pinching and ending so abruptly. Michael never wanted to see Gavin like this again. He’d do anything.

“Go ahead.”

“I really want to face you. I know my- my,” he paused, his voice wavering and breaking and _God_ Michael really would _do anything_ to stop this pain. “I know it’s complicated with my… everything. But I just, I just really need to face you. I don’t know, I just…”

And once his voice drifted, his body so overwhelmed with shame that he couldn’t even control his own salivary glands, he just scrunched a little closer into his body. He was only gaining enough strength to bring his knees an inch or two closer to his body.

Michael’s voice held everything that was soothing, his voice just so heavy in whatever guilt he pinned on himself. “Oh little one, no, no. I’ve got you for a reason. Let me turn you over. I don’t care about anything else, okay?”

As he turned Gavin over, he filled the air with gentle words. “If I didn’t want to have everything that comes with this shitty situation, I’d have covered you up and then gone to make dinner or wash the dishes. I’m here no matter what.”

He pulled Gavin’s arms up, scrunching them between their bodies. He had enough movement back to perfect the position as Michael got the blanket resituated.

“Thank you, Michael. I hate this. I hate it so much. I feel like a baby and you’re just making it so much better and you could be such an ass if you wanted-” his tears finally broke as he sniffed, rubbing his eyes against Michael’s side. “I love you so much.”

The back of Gavin’s head nagged, and he knew he’d be embarrassed in the morning.

“Gavin, if I was ever an ass when you’re like this, I’d hope you would throw me out. You sure as hell didn’t ask for this,” Michael whispered, “and God, he got you so good. I don’t know what he used or how much but Jesus, it was too much for your body.”

It was then that silence once again drenched the room and painted the walls. It was comforting. It was the quiet that they needed, even for a few seconds. It was something that _Gavin_ needed. The past hour or so had gone by so quickly. He didn’t have the time to even re-assess things.

He was immobilized and confused and the weakest he’d ever been. His body and mind was taken from him, and none of this was supposed to happen. He was supposed to be _playing games_ for his life’s work, for God’s sake. Not being roofied in a bar. He didn’t think he was special. He wore penis costumes and thought cameras were neat. That wasn’t _special_.

He just couldn’t get it out of his head what _could’ve_ happened if he was alone. That disgusting man could’ve-

“- hurt me,” Gavin whimpered, trying to force his head forward, closer to Michael.

Michael jumped, pulling back just enough to separate them by a couple of inches, his voice was heavy and dream-laced. “What, where? Where did I hurt you?”

Gavin’s tummy turned and he just wanted to be back to normal. It all just kept getting worst.

“No, Michael. I’m sorry, you didn't- I didn’t know you were asleep.”

“That doesn’t matter, Gav. Did I pinch you? Squeeze you?” Michael whispered, re-entering his personal space, where he belonged. He did a once over, checking for any immediate injuries. His heart clenched at the wet spot on the pillow, just underneath Gavin’s lips.

“You didn’t hurt me, promise. My brain is just so… slow. I was thinking and some of it came out. Go back to sleep, my sweet boy,” Gavin murmured, pouring love through his eyes.

“Okay. Come here, I see you inching,” Michael chuckled softly, reaching behind Gavin’s head to pull him forward. His forehead rested against Michael’s shoulder. It was everything. It was only then that he realized Michael had put a shirt on.

What else had he missed?

He could finally rest wholeheartedly knowing he was as close to Michael as his current position would allow.

“So, do you wanna talk about what you were thinking about?”

“I was just thinking… I’m glad nothing happened. Besides, the… you know- the drugs,” he stuttered, hissing under his breath. He nuzzled his nose against Michael’s shirt in frustration.

Michael’s arm tightened around him, if that was even possible at that point. “I may have failed at stopping the damn roofie, but I sure as hell would not let anyone leave with you. I can promise you that if I ever see him, I swear to _God_ -”

“Michael, please,” Gavin whispered. “Not right now. I know you’re mad, I understand, I just don’t want…”

He was becoming too tired to even speak, it was almost as if his throat was actually getting _tired._ It was bloody aggravating.

“No, no, I get it,” Michael shoved his nose into Gavin’s hair. “Just try to get some sleep now okay?”

And the idea sounded so strange because if Gavin wanted to sleep, he’d have done it already, surely. But the next time he blinked, his eyes didn’t open-

\---

\- until four in the morning, when his throat began constricting.

His body seized in fear because he didn’t remember anything, he just knew his body was sluggish and his mind wasn’t far ahead. But he also wasn’t a baby anymore, and understood immediately that he was about to vomit.

He abruptly tore from the arm around his body and leaned over the foot of the bed, vomiting on the floor.

Halfway through throwing up burning alcohol, he realized that his body was working much better. He was able to twist over the bed and move his lips on his own command.

He felt hands rubbing at his shoulder blades, “Don’t worry about the floor. Just get it all out, okay? I’m gonna go get a rag and some drink.”

The bed dipped on his right and then things went black for seconds, only gaining sight when Michael called his name. A wet rag was pressed against his face. He was so exhausted that he didn’t bother reaching to use it on his own. He allowed Michael to take care of him, swaying every now and then.

With some soda and a clean mouth, he was laid back down on the bed. He caught a glimpse of Michael leaning down towards the foot of the bed, cleaning the mess. Then he was back to the sweet bliss of sleep.

\---

When he awoke, fingers were playing with the hairs on his neck and even more were scratching the sensitive skin of his back. He’d never sighed so heavy, so full of relief.

“I saw you were moving better earlier,” Michael smiled.

“Yup, no more being a ragdoll. I wasn’t so against you taking care of me though,” Gavin whispered, his face flushing a rosy tinge. He flexed his fingers against the other’s chest, marvelling in the movement. Never did he think he’d be so satisfied just seeing his body _work_.

“Then I did my job well,” Michael said. “I wish I didn’t have to though.”

And even though Gavin was relishing in the fact that _wow, my toes can curl_ , he couldn’t stop the dread that settled on his chest. The reality of the situation. “Yeah. I know when it happened, Michael. The guy sitting next to you. He had me pick something up for him, and he got my drink then. The damn bartender didn’t even notice.”

Michael’s eyes surveyed his hips, “It should be in the job description. He sure was moving when Geoff got ahold of him. Broke a glass and everything. If you can remember what that _piece_ of _shit_ looked like, we can report him. Geoff’s already got the basic information with the police.”

“It’s easier to forget it happened. But I don’t want anyone else to have to deal with him, so yeah. We can go in the morning, right?”

“Of course. Geoff said to stay home until Monday. You’re stuck with me for _three_ days,” Michael teased.

Gavin shifted, propping himself on his elbow. He bloomed as Michael’s eyes followed him, “So you’re not going in tomorrow, either?”

“Are you kidding me? Leave you here, alone, after what happened? Not a chance. Until I know that fuckface has been caught, you’re sticking with me,” he paused. “I’d say you have a choice, but you really don’t.”

The British boy’s eyelashes began fluttering, sleep desperately trying to claim him once again. He didn’t even bother responding. He just shoved his way _into_ Michael, hoping to become one with him. To hide from the world in the only being that he trusted so wholly.

Michael chuckled with so much _light_ and he bundled the boy into his chest, kissing the top of his head. He raked his nails along the other’s back, hoping to lull him to sleep.

Gavin allowed himself to drift because in his dreams he was in the home that he belonged in, surrounded by clouds and sunshine and Michael. The wind whispered nothing but love and his head was lighter than a daisy.

“Go to sleep, Gav. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He sounded so confident, but his psyche was a black hole filled with doubt and trepidation. How in the _hell_ was Gavin going to handle everything in the morning. He wouldn’t be on cloud nine because his limbs were working again. He’d have a clear head.

And a clear head meant understanding that he was _roofied_.


End file.
